Got Any Quarters?
by lolzwatgrammerz
Summary: Set in season 2 episode 13. Dean knows for a fact Sam has some quarters and he is willing to go to any lengths to get them. M/M, dubcon, Wincest.


_**Disclaimer:**_** I do not own ****Supernatural**** or any of its characters. Nor do I profit from the writing of this fanwork.**

_**Beta Reader:**_** The lovely ApplePieAndHotChicks (archiveofourown.)**

Sam walks into the motel room, weary from a long day searching for leads and getting nowhere. "Hey," he calls out to Dean.

Dean, however, is not listening. Sprawled across the bed, headphones in, music turned up to some ungodly volume, which Sam can almost hear.

Walking across the room Sam looks Dean over, who has also, apparently found some machine that makes the bed vibrate, buzzing faintly. He looks relaxed, a state in which Sam hardly sees him, the bed jostling him to and fro. Sam wonders what he'd look like were he lying naked on the bed, and if the movement would make his junk-

Shaking his head, Sam clears the thought from his mind, reminding himself of his, 'no sex while working a job,' rule. Reaching out, Sam whacks Dean's feet, calling for attention with a loud "Hey!"

Opening his eyes, Dean shoots him a smile, pulling an ear bud out and propping his head up with one arm. "Hey man, you gotta try this. There really is magic in the magic fingers." Dean's voice holds the slightest hint of suggestion, and he smiles invitingly. Dean has made no secret that he is not fond of Sam's rule, and takes every chance he gets to try and make Sam break it.

Looking away from Dean, Sam resists the urge to readjust himself, not wanting to let Dean know he's gotten to him. "Dean, you're enjoying that way too much. It's kind of making me uncomfortable." He swallows, keeping himself from glancing back down at Dean, telling himself it won't make following the rule any easier if he's gets a damn hard on.

"What am I supposed to do?" Dean whines indignantly. "You got me on lock down here. I'm bored out of my skull."

And Sam looks back at Dean, who is shooting him a very resentful glare, before telling him, "You were the bank robber on the 11:00 news, not me. We can't risk you just walking into a government facility."

Dean rolls his eyes in response, and he can almost hear the 'whatever,' that Deans body language is implying, as he lays back down on the bed.

Shaking his head Sam walks to the bathroom, needing to get away from Dean, who, even while annoyingly childish, is still making it hard for him to follow his rule. Turning on the faucet, Sam scoops up a handful of water, splashing himself in the face, trying to get himself to 'cool off' a bit.

From the other room he hears a faint click, and the buzzing stops. Then, Dean's voice; "Ah, damn it that was my last quarter." A slight pause, then Dean calling imploringly. "Hey. You got any quarters?"

Sam thinks briefly of the change in his back pocket, which he is sure contains at least three quarters. He lets his mind wander a bit, thinking of giving them to Dean, watching him wiggle on the bed a bit before joining him, and fuck does he want to. His dick jumping in his pants pulls him back to reality though, and he makes himself remember the job, the rule.

So he calls out a no, hoping Dean can't hear the catch in his breath, and restarts the task of getting himself calmed down. Splashing himself with water once again he wonders if he sent Dean out to get food he'd have time for a quick toss.

The sound of bed springs groaning and footsteps making their way across the room tell Sam that Dean is coming his way. He tries to put himself together as much as possible, not wanting Dean to know just how much he'd gotten to him just then.

"Look, I told you I don't have any quarters, okay?" Sam says, looking at Dean through the bathroom mirror. But Dean is giving him a look that's going straight to his cock so he looks down again, splashing his face with water for what feels like the hundredth time that night. He can't hold back the quickly spreading blush though, and Sam hopes to God it hasn't spread to his ears, and that Dean can't see it because he'd never be able to live down. For years he'd have to hear about how Dean is so sexy he can turn him on with just a look.

"I know." Dean says, and Sam hears the sound of footsteps again as Dean crosses the short distance of the bathroom to stand right up against Sam, crotch level with his ass. "But I'm _bored_ and I want something to do."

Leaning further over him, Dean licks and nips at his neck, and Sam has to grip the edges of the sink tightly, to hold in the shiver that threatens to break free.

And Sam is well on his way to just letting him strip him naked and take him right there, before he remembers the job, and the rule, and the fact that he really doesn't want Dean to get his way. So he turns himself around in the small space between the sink and Dean's body, thinking he'll back off and perhaps go sulk, but at least he wouldn't be doing these _things _to him.

Dean, however, just pushes himself right back against him, attacking his neck from the front, beginning to undo the buttons of Sam's shirt. Sam's dick is still pushing against his pants and he's sure Dean can feel it. He's very much wishing he had not turned around now because there is no doubt that Dean knows exactly what he's doing to him.

He can feel Dean's erection as well, large and wanting, pressing against his leg, making Sam want this all the more. He thinks of having Dean inside of him, hot and pounding, and oh so wonderful.

Still trying to stick to his rule though, Sam tries again. "Dean, I'm not in the mood for-"

"Not in the mood, eh?" Dean asks, interrupting, giving his crotch a gentle squeeze; causing Sam to buck in his hand. Much to Dean's enjoyment.

"Shut up," Sam says weakly. And it must be admitted that Sam's next attempts to dissuade Dean are not as heartfelt as they could be, though he has not yet given up. "We have to focus on the job, Dean. There isn't time-"

"There isn't time for what, Sam?" Dean asks, cutting him off again. "Isn't time for this?" And Dean is kissing his way down his torso, pushing Sam's shirt off his shoulders, which Sam doesn't quite remember being unbuttoned all the way.

Dean's still moving downwards, until he's on his knees in front of Sam, mouthing at his cock through the denim of his pants. Sam's dick fully erect and straining against the confines of his pants, he really doesn't want Dean to stop, but the rule, the god damn fucking rule.

"Dean." Sam says, and it comes out in a pleading voice, causes Dean to smile against him. "Stop it, you know the rule."

"Since when have we ever been very big followers of rules?" Dean asks, and nuzzles against Sam's crotch.

Letting out a moan, Sam throws his head back, screwing his eyes shut, and has to grip onto the sink behind him to keep himself steady. Any more thoughts of arguing are thrown from Sam's mind.

Dean laughs quietly. Knowing he's gotten his way, and Sam can feel the vibrations from it, which elicits another moan, and has Sam bucking forward desperate for more contact.

"Whoa, slow down there, buddy." Dean says, pulling away a bit, and Sam let's out an involuntary whimper.

"Damn it, Dean, just hurry up," Sam tells him. It doesn't come out as heated as he wants, though he does keep himself from bucking again, which is something.

"What happened to your rule, then?" Dean asks, chucking, though he relents and undoes the button on Sam's pants.

Then he starts to unzip them, moving at an agonizingly slow pace, looking up at Sam and smiling mischievously. Sam tries to keep his patience, but Dean is moving so purposefully slow and Sam is done holding himself back and he wants it _now_.

Letting go of the sink Sam tries to do the task of unzipping his pants himself, but Dean pushes his hands away, shooting him a stern glare. Letting out another whimper, Sam puts his hands back on the sink, cursing Dean in his mind.

"I really love the sounds you make when you don't get your way," Dean says affectionately. He's finished with the task of the zipper, and is slowly sliding his hands over Sam's upper thighs, then around to his backside, giving is a quick squeeze before hooking his fingers in Sam's pockets, and easing the pants down Sam's hips.

Dean is still looking at Sam, smirking, and doesn't look away until Sam's pants are around his knees, dick straining against his boxers. Dragging his teeth lightly against Sam's lower stomach, Dean catches the waistband with his front teeth, and pulls the fabric away from Sam's body.

Sam's erection springs free, large and glistening with the tiniest bit of precum. "Please," Sam says. He isn't all that sure what he's asking for, brain foggy with arousal and want.

Dean casts his glance up again, smiling round the fabric, somehow making himself go lower so that when lets go of the elastic it doesn't cover Sam's dick again. And he straightens himself back up, flicking his tongue out, and licking the precum away, Sam letting out a gurgled moan, waiting for Dean to hurry the fuck up.

But Dean is getting up, and Sam looks at him in confusion as he stands not nearly as close as before, Sam letting out another whimper from the loss of contact, looking at Dean questioningly.

"You know," Dean says. "You're right; we do need to focus on the job." And he turns to go, leaving Sam fully aroused and half naked, thoughts of killing Dean flashing through his head. At the doorway, though, he turns around and Sam hopes he's decided to finish up, but it's only to say one more thing. "Besides, wouldn't you know it; I just found three more quarters." And he holds out his hand to show Sam the three shiny silver coins from his back pocket.

_**Author's Note:**_** I hope you liked it! This is my first time writing for this ship, fandom, and anything pornish at all. I hope to write more of all three in the future. All constructive criticism is welcome and greatly appreciated.** **Also, I'm thinking of writing a sequel to this, but I haven't yet decided. Anyways, thanks!**


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